|This picture is drawn and painted by my friend Aishidha Rajeev. |
Thanks to her sincere efforts I could pen the poem which almost came as an inspiration from the painting.
Kudos to her and her subliminal effort.
Killed once and dead thrice, pain is no longer
Rushing through my frozen veins, it has stopped
Somewhere between the terribly broken heart
And the viciously cleaved head. Thinking out
On the torridly lonesome after-life, it is not
Hatred that comes into the unscathed nerves,
Which still relay protected feelings of coming
Back to a human abode and living a new life,
Rather it is an ethereal passion to forgive and
Thank the destiny which made the evenings
Longer, days calmer and feelings narrower.
The worlds I travel are distant, the people
I meet are few. I searched forever on the shores
Where dead souls come to see rare cosmic
Lights that for a moment bring colors from
Earth, but never found a single face that
I laid upon in my disturbing Earthen times.
To die is indeed a moment's job, but killing the
Time after will take an eternity's patient wait.
Being born again is not my wish,
Violets smell in this suspended world,
And maybe the love of them keeps me
Bound to the vivid specter of minds passing
From the other world to mine. It is a promising
Sight. When dreams are now a part of nostalgia
And life is a word thrown around by depressed
Souls that wander forever, I still wait for
The cosmic shores to bring the color of you,
And then I will close my vision and the image
Shall drown inside my eyes and settle
Peacefully for all the eternities to see.